The Island – Chapter 3

First time sex stories: The Island – Chapter 3

The light streaming in the airplane window woke me a few hours later. We had 3 hours before landing in South Africa, where it would be after lunch local time. Carol was still zonked out, and I wasn’t really interested in morning after conversation anyway, so I grabbed one of the croissants the stews were handing out and headed into coach.

Janie was awake, sitting by herself reading when I moseyed on up.

“Where’s Jared,” I asked, motioning to the empty seat next to her.

“Squeezed into that row over there with his friends. I swear I’ll kill him if he spends the whole trip playing video games. He’s supposed to be experiencing the world.”

“Don’t worry about it, “ I reassured her, sitting down. “The inside of the plane is pretty boring.” Although not so much for me, I thought. “Once we land he’s going to be pretty psyched to see a new country.”

We chatted for almost 2 hours, and as the time flew by I remembered why I was so hot for this chick. Looking into her soft brown eyes as they crinkled up while she told me an amusing story I felt like I was falling for her. She was really fun to be around and oh, so sexy. In no time we were being told to prepare for our approach into Johannesburg for refueling and a short layover while they cleaned the plane.

I headed back to my seat. Carol was now awake, and I talked her through the landing, as she remained pretty nervous about flying, and being hung over didn’t help. On the ground she gave me a kiss and promised to meet up with me back home, as she wasn’t heading on to Korea. “I have a lot more catching up I want to do,” she said with an evil gleam in her eye. She gave my crotch a little squeeze to emphasize her point, and stood up to get her bag. I collected my gear and stood up myself a minute later.

The flight attendants were giving the routine “Bu-byes” to the deplaning passengers, but I got something extra. My redheaded disciplinarian handed me a little bag and said with a perky grin, “Thanks for flying with us. Here’s a souvenir of your trip.” She quickly brushed her lips across my ear and whispered, “You might not want to open it in front of your girlfriend,“ nodding back at the coach section.

I walked down the jetway, a little nervous about what was in the bag. I had a minute before the coach section started unloading, so I scooted into the bathroom to find out what my souvenir was. In one of the stalls, I opened the bag. Reaching in, I was pleasantly surprised when I pulled out a pair of panties. I recognized them from the quick peek she had given me when I had cleaned her shoes last night. They were pale yellow lace, with a little pink and blue bow on the front.

The crotch had a thick white stripe of feminine glaze that her overheated snatch had laid down during our nocturnal adventure. I held them to my face and enjoyed her scent for a moment, then tasted the salty treat she had left for me. Tangy and sweet, and wonderfully womanly. I put them back in the bag reluctantly, knowing I didn’t have time right now to fully enjoy her gift. As I did, I realized there was a piece of paper in the bag as well. I unfolded it, and read “I’m deadheading the next leg of the flight, which means I’m not working, just along for the ride. That will give me plenty of time to arrange your reward. See you soon!”

By the time I had tamed my boner, taken a piss, and headed back to the gate, our students were storming out of the jetway. Janie brought up the rear, and we trooped them to the bathrooms to do a little sink bathing and basic hygiene. We walked to the end of the terminal and picked up some snacks, magazines, and movies, then filed back on the plane for our second flight. Several Africans were boarding, and I again saw the Middle Eastern contingent, now arguing with a new member of their group with a rolling carry-on bag who must have joined them here in J-burg. They were speaking rapid-fire Arabic and gesturing wildly as they headed onto the plane. I spotted a stunning Indian woman in a bright pink sari boarding, and several more Koreans joining us for the trip to Seoul.

The flight crew changed out, and everyone found their seats. I was in coach class for the remainder of the trip, but was still not anywhere near Janie, who was near the front with part of the Tae Kwon Do group. I was closer to the back, and spotted my sexy stew on the other side of the plane in the last row, talking to one of the flight attendants, a chubby but attractive blonde woman. The redheaded vixen was still in uniform, but not working this flight, and was sitting in a seat in the last row. They glanced up at me, and both started giggling. I wondered what in the hell she was telling her friend about our arrangement. I shook my head and knew I would be finding out soon.

We were leaving just after 3 PM local time, for a second 14-hour flight. The plan was to arrive just about lunchtime in Seoul, after another overnighter. Flying halfway around the world seriously sucked, but at least this airline had some unexpected perks!

Everyone buckled up for takeoff, and once we were at altitude the movie started. The lights were dimmed and most passengers tuned in to the latest teen vampire flick. I wasn’t really interested, and was taking out my book to get in a little reading, when I smelled a familiar perfume. I looked up to see those cool green eyes appraising me. My ginger hottie was back. Silently she beckoned me into the aisle, and toward the back of the plane. I followed her down the aisle, watching the sway of her fine, full ass under the uniform skirt. I wondered if she had a spare pair of panties on, or if she was naked under there! The thought had my cock engorged in no time.

As we approached the rear galley, two other flight attendants emerged with the service cart. One of them was my honeyslut’s chubby blond friend, and she grinned and whispered to us, “You’ve got about 15 minutes while we get the snacks and drinks handed out.”

We entered the space in the back, and she pulled the curtain. She immediately pulled up her skirt, answering my question for me. Definitely not wearing her underwear! I was treated to the sight of her pale pink pussy, topped by a little landing strip of fiery orange curls. Her skin was creamy white, with not a hint of tan, and her plump labia were slightly parted, giving just a hint of the pink treasure within. I dropped to my knees in front of her, and slid my hands up the backs of her silky thighs.

My palms reached her round, firm ass cheeks, and I grabbed hold like I was drowning, pulling my face to her perfumed pudenda. She smelled of jasmine and her own delicate aroma. I brushed my lips down her pubes and reached the top of her gash. My stubbled chin lightly raked along her velvety labia as I planted kisses on the hood of her clit. She sighed and grabbed my hair, pulling me in tighter. My fingers were now deep in her ass crack, pulling her thighs apart from the rear. She accommodated, lifting one toned and limber leg and placing on the jump seat, giving me access to her seeping slit.

I pulled back for a moment, appreciating the captivating sight of her secret garden. The thin, ginger strip of hair ended just above her clit. Below this, her labia were smooth and hairless. They were pale and puffy, and now spread wide for me. Between them, her inner lips, a deeper pink, hung engorged and begging for attention. They were glistening with her juices, and I traced the frilly edge of one of them with my tongue up to where it joined with the other to cover her pleasure node.

I brought my thumbs around and placed them next to her hood, carefully lifting from each side until her own little erection was fully exposed. This lovely pink protrusion was almost the size of my pinky tip, and jutted out of the fleshy folds on either side of it. My questing tongue traced circles around her love bean until she was dripping from my saliva and her own honey. I covered my teeth with my lips and gently bit down on her pleasure center, drawing a ragged gasp from her open mouth.

I then quickly sucked her dangling meat curtains into my mouth, pulling and stretching them with my teeth and sliding my tongue in between them to tickle her pee hole. I got a little taste of her piss as I worked my way down her drooling snatch to her love tunnel. I traced the ridges of her vagina with my tongue, deep in her now, and reveled in the rich, salty taste of her nectar. She was so wet that her thighs were now slick and shiny, and her legs were shaking uncontrollably and threatening to give way.

I again grasped her ass with both hands, and this time lifted her onto the galley counter. I slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a sheer yellow lacy bra that matched my souvenir panties. I quickly shucked off my pants and shorts, and her cool hand wrapped itself around my turgid member and began stroking it. I opened her front hook bra, freeing her soft, white globes. Her nipples were hard little pink nubs, set in puckered areolae and perched on top of lovely, swaying udders of tit flesh. I sucked first one, then the other, drawing her pink points deep into my mouth and caressing the diamond-hard nipples with my tongue. She was panting heavily now, and her finger was drawing circles of pre-cum on my cockhead.

I aimed my rigid man meat at her sopping slot, and looked deep into her captivating green eyes as I slid in her to the hilt. Her cunny began spasming around my prick, and she closed her eyes and bit my lip as her orgasm washed over her. I began pumping into her warm, wet pudding-bowl of a pussy, driving deep within her womb and slapping her ass with my heavy balls with each thrust.

She reached around and grabbed my ass, pulling me into her with even more force. I brought one hand up to the riot of red curls on her head, twining my fingers in that gorgeous mane and slipping my tongue between her parted lips. After a few minutes of ecstatic joining, she again rose to a shuddering climax, and I pumped my seed deep into her cunt as she clenched her vagina on my spurting knob, draining every drop I had to give her.

As my dick slowly wilted in her warm softness, we looked at each other and smiled. “We haven’t even been properly introduced,” I chuckled. She flashed me a dazzling smile, her hands still gripping my ass.

She laughed as we pulled apart, my cock leaving her tight pussy with a slight pop. “They don’t call them the friendly skies for nothing. “

We reassembled our clothing and made ourselves presentable. I was just about to make some inane comment when all hell broke loose in the cabin.

My first thought was, This is definitely the most exciting trip I have ever taken, and I haven’t even gotten off the plane yet…

My second was, Something is seriously wrong here!

Sharon and I peered through the curtain to see several of the Middle Easterners standing in the aisles, one of them waving what seemed to be a white gun. I had heard of plastic guns made by 3-D printers, that could avoid TSA scrutiny, and wondered if that was one of them. One of the men had the blond stewardess in a death grip, with what appeared to be a ceramic knife held to her neck. He was barking orders to the air marshal, ordering him to drop his gun or he would kill the girl.

The plane was dropping like a stone, and my stomach flipped as we free fell for a couple of thousand feet. The marshal finally complied, and as he placed his gun on the floor of the plane, the hijacker sprang on him and plunged the knife into his neck. The poor bastard dropped to the ground, bleeding out in seconds. The stewardess fell to her knees in the aisle, sobbing. Passengers were screaming and one woman was vomiting in fear. Several other attackers held hostages, and I heard banging and screaming from the front of the plane as they attempted to force the cockpit door.

One of the hostages was a burly man, and was probably a poor choice for a spindly terrorist with a knife to take on. The attacker glanced at the dead marshal, and the passenger took advantage of the distraction and ducked under the knife, grabbing the assailant’s arm. A brief struggle ensued, and he quickly disarmed and stabbed the hijacker, dropping him to the floor. Several other men seemed to take heart in this, and jumped up from their seats, rushing the terrorists. I saw at least 2 go down fighting, but others
had more luck, subduing the knife-wielding assholes and disarming them.

The plane was more steady now, but below the cloud cover. I caught a glimpse of the vast Indian Ocean below us as I crept unobserved out of the galley and hid behind the service cart a few rows up the aisle. I motioned Sharon to stay behind me as I peered out from behind the cart. One of the Arabic women in a burka was two rows up, and appeared to be pulling something out of the carry-on bag they had brought aboard in Johannesburg.

At this point several members of the passenger resistance movement rushed the gunman in the center of the plane. I had to admire their courage, but they didn’t stand a chance. He began firing at them, dropping 4 men cleanly, until his next shot missed and shattered one of the windows. A hurricane of wind began roaring through the plane as the cabin depressurized. The pilot must have realized the problem, for again the plane fell out of the sky in a sustained free-fall as he brought our altitude down to a level at which we wouldn’t all suffocate. The gunman was howling in rage, hurling his now empty gun at one of the surviving heroes, and passengers all over the plane were screaming. Under cover of the deafening chaos, I began pushing the cart up the aisle ahead of me.

I could see the burka-clad female terrorist pulling another of the plastic guns out of a bag in front of her, obviously intending to resupply the ringleader. I quickly shoved the cart forward until I was next to her, and grabbed the gun in her outstretched arm before she could do so. She screeched and began clawing at my face with one hand, and fought like a tigress to prevent me getting control of the weapon. Suddenly bullets began erupting from the gun as she squeezed the trigger reflexively.

By the purest of chances, the first bullet plugged her boss right in the forehead. As my weight dragged her arm downward, several shots penetrated the emergency exit door, entering the wing, and others punctured the floor. By the time she had emptied the weapon, ominous grinding noises were emanating from beneath us, and smoke was erupting from the port engine.

The plane shuddered and descended rapidly toward the ocean below us. I caught a glimpse of a beautiful tropical sunset out one of the windows before the terrorist bitch I had hold of head-butted me in the face. I let go of her arm in pain, but before she could do any more damage, Sharon clocked her in the head with a metal coffee pot from the galley.

It became apparent that our plane was not long for the air, and would be ditching in the dark waters below. Sure enough, the pilot came on the PA system, saying we were making an emergency water landing. He urged everyone to assume crash positions. Sharon pulled me back to the galley, where there were 2 jump seats. She got herself strapped in in an instant, but I was having trouble figuring out the unfamiliar mechanism. Just as I found the lock, we struck the water.
I launched out of the seat, slamming painfully into the bulkhead. I had a brief impression of screams, bouncing, and flashing lights and then everything went black.

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